


Precious Silence

by Tomek_NB



Category: Apex Legends (Video Games)
Genre: Bad Puns, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Getting to Know Each Other, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Revenant Being Revenant (Apex Legends), Robot/Human Relationships, Strangulation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:55:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26311495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomek_NB/pseuds/Tomek_NB
Summary: The ever positive, young scientist and the murder-obsessed simulacrum find themselves with some unanticipated alone time together. She can't help but want to understand him better... and is he intrigued by her as well? Suddenly their alone time is much too short.
Relationships: Revenant/Wattson I Natalie Paquette
Comments: 4
Kudos: 31





	Precious Silence

**Author's Note:**

> Ho boy, is this the first RevWatts story? Lucky me! Love these two and they're just hella cute together. Wouldn't you agree? :D  
> Please throw me a comment and let me know what you think. Take care! 💜

The two remaining squad members hunker down in an old, derelict building, camping in the late Ring. Their third teammate died to a hail of gunfire some time ago. 

He looks out the battered window with his sniper rifle at the ready. She finishes setting up her pylon, charging them both and filling the air with sweet, sparking static. It's a gentle hum of white noise really. The young engineer would never design her equipment to be loud and painful to her sensitive ears.

Needing to take inventory of her navy backpack, she plops down next to the simulacrum. Flat on her bottom, in nowhere near a combat position, she takes count of her remaining ammunition. Revenant observes her from the corner of his eye. Visibly annoyed with his teammate's carefree attitude, but choosing to remain silent, not desiring to break the blanket of serene quiet that envelops them. A rare gift that he should be paired with someone who despises all the useless noise skinsuits make nearly as much as he does.

The immortal man tenses when she raises her arm to him. In her gloved hand she offers a med kit. Her round face beams with a smile brighter than a bolt lightning against the night sky. He considers not taking it, just to see her smile burn out at the rejection; however, there are only four squads left and he has precious, few syringes on his person. Natalie does her signature, gleeful clap when he snatches it from her, happy to help her squadmate (even if he's growling about it).

Which, come to think of it, she is quite curious how his voice functions operate. How does a being with no mouth or throat nonetheless growl and cough and pant exactly? She's never been this close to the mysterious simulacrum. Or this alone. Previously she hadn't given it much thought, yet now fueled by the spark of curiosity, her scientific mind is racing with questions and hypotheses. Her staring was obvious. Inquisitive, baby blue eyes dancing up and down over his mechanical body. 

He seethes. Unable to tolerate her prodding eyes a moment longer, Revenant spins toward the small Legend, shooting his skeletal arm out and curling his fingers around her delicate throat. They both freeze in place. Perfect statues locked in an act of violence. Until she laughs.

Despite the seriousness of the situation (or perhaps because of it), the blonde woman in the devil's grip can't help but giggle. He isn't holding her tight enough to end her short life, only to make a point. With her now laughing in his face, he's reconsidering that decision. She sputters as his steel fingers tighten, cutting off her fit of giggles. Not one to be outdone, Natalie mirrors his action, raising her left hand to grasp his robotic neck and strangle him in kind. 

It's a far stronger hold than he ever antocipated from a sack of meat like her. Too strong, in fact. He attempts to pull her off of him one-handed, snarling. She grins and squeezes him harder. There's no oxygen to cut off but his internal wires and tubing still respond to her increased pressure, shooting pain and excitement through his circuitry. It takes both hands to yank her small fingers from his body. He tears off her glove, earning a yelp in protest from the young defender. 

His yellow optics spin wildly upon seeing her metal hand held against his own. This is the last thing he expected to find under her insulated glove. From a literal perspective, their appendages look nothing alike. Hers is petite, softly colored, with smooth and flush connective pieces, looking distinctly human in it's design. Whereas his are long and twisted, hands of the dead that bend and contort in any direction to inflict terror. The simulacrum runs his fingers over hers. Cold metal on metal. Exploring every dip and curve of her prosthetic, too enthralled by the novelty of touching a skinbag who has the same type of "flesh" as himself. 

Propelled to discover the extent of her man-made parts, Revenant jerks her multiple layers of clothing up her arm. She stares wide eyed at his unusual behavior. The fabric restricts too tightly to get it any higher than her elbow, but that's more than enough. The marriage of pink flesh and elegant metals occurs a mere breath above her wrist, with vicious scarring continuing up her arm. He slides his fingers up, circling the point of connection and grazing over her exposed flesh. His touch now tracing over her nerve endings and causes Natalie to shiver in response. Finally, breaking the former hitman out of his trance inspecting her, Revenant is mortified by the clear intimacy of his actions. Cursing his own vulnerability and lack of self control, he drops her arm as if it burned him. With obvious concern written all over her face, Natalie grabs him by the wrist when he quickly shifts to stand. 

"It's okay," she attempts to calm her teammate before he can storm off. "I know you were just curious. People often find my lucky hand quite shocking." 

He bites back a scream. The only thing keeping him from having a more visceral reaction is the knowledge that nearby enemies would be alerted to the sound and he is not at all interested in being discovered while his fellow squad member is clinging to his arm. And still, she persists with talking.

"Tu sais, Mr. Revenant, you're a finely built machine, bah oui?" the blonde ponders, "I, too, am intrigued to understand how your parts function. Hee, it would be so exciting to learn how you operate! I can sympathize wh-"

Revenant hisses, "Let go. Now. Before I tear the rest of your fucking arm off, skinbag."

Frowning, she relents. He stomps off across the room, sulking too much to be completely angry and far too angry to be entirely sulking. She glances down, her hands now resting in her lap. Natalie has always hated being on bad terms with people, even if those people are bloodthirsty robots from Hell. And her mind was still buzzing, wondering what made his body tick. Absentmindedly, she strokes her metal hand with her flesh and blood one as she mulls over their exchange, trying to ascertain how things went wrong. Recalling how- dare she say- _tender_ he was when touching her prosthetic. She couldn't feel that part of course, but it was surprisingly more soothing than anything she would have expected out of the nightmarish Legend. It gave her an idea.

"Coucou, my apologies if that sounded too impersonal. I wouldn't want to treat you as something to disassemble... Mm, no, that would be inappropriate." Natalie rises to her feet with open arms and smiling as warmly as ever. "Perhaps we could "share" in a learning experience instead? A positive exchange? I'd be happy to let you see how my prosthetic works, if you could let me examine your appendages in turn."

She receives no answer from the man in red. Or rather, she might have, if a flare grenade hadn't flew through the broken window, exploding on the floor boards between them.


End file.
